


drag my feet on the tile

by Pomfry



Category: Sword Art Online
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Yuuki Asuna | Asuna, Canon-Typical Violence, Captivity, Dubious kissing, F/M, Forced Feminization, I wrote this out of spite, M/M, Manhunt - Freeform, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Powerlessness, Prince in distress, Rape/Non-con Elements, Role Reversal, What Have I Done, aftermath of being in SAO for two years, and asuna loves her husband, fairyhunt, i want to reiterate that Sugou is creepy as hell here, kazuto loves his wife, rewrite of fairy dance arc, sugou being his usual creepy self, well more like, yui loves both of her parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 17:35:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16665208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pomfry/pseuds/Pomfry
Summary: After SAO is beaten, Asuna wakes up in the hospital. Kazuto does not.





	drag my feet on the tile

**Author's Note:**

> hoooookay so this is something I thought id never write but out of nostalgia I started rewatching sao and the fairy dance arc always made me mad? and what do I do when I get mad about a show? I complain to my friends. and my friend encouraged me. and here we are.
> 
> I have no excuse.

The world shatters beneath his feet. Kirito—Kazuto, he thinks now—falls forward, his knees hitting the darkness beneath him. Asuna is gone, but that's okay. She's going to be waking up in her real body for the first time in over two years, and Kazuto is alone. He's alone in blackness but that's okay, too.   
  
He forces down the panic that rises when he doesn't open his eyes. Forces down the panic when he doesn't feel the weight of the Nervegear on his head. Maybe he's just being delayed. Maybe he's just being late, the last one to wake up. It would make sense. He was the one to beat the game.   
  
He waits. To see anything other than darkness. Than nothing. He waits and he waits and nothing happens.   
  
Fear trips in his throat when his clothes burst into pixels. Something is happening. This isn't what happened with Asuna. Something is happening and it isn't something he can control.   
  
The pixels stop in midair and he's left curling in on himself in the black, arms wrapped around his knees as his ears break apart too, frozen in time.

He doesn't breath. He can't. It's like there's nothing making him do it, like there's no air. He doesn't know what's happening for the first time in two years and—   
  
And he's scared. He's a teenager forced into deadly situations, into death matches and watching people die with his own eyes. He's scared, dammit, and he closes his eyes, legs pressed to his chest as his hands press against the sides of his head, trying to drown out the silence with white noise before realizing he doesn't have ears anymore. He doesn't know how he's hearing, then.   
  
There's nothing here. No light, no sound. Nothing except him and he's always been assaulted with noise, with lights and color and this is the first time he hasn't been. It's a surprise and Kazuto hates surprises.

He doesn't know how long he sits there, staring at the pale skin of his legs without breathing, but it's long enough that he feels like he's going insane. He takes a shuddering breath, the first one in ages, and watches as the pixels turn in midair before flying into a flurry, wrapping around him, under him, on him, and Kazuto can't keep the panic down as he begins to hyperventilate.   
  
His head becomes weighed down with hair. His clothes change to white, change into something revealing. His stomach shows, his feet bare, and his legs show, paleness offset with white.   
  
Kazuto grips the skirt that hangs from his hips tightly. A red ribbon keeps the hair out of his eyes, keeps the translucent fabric hanging over his arms there.   
  
He feels vulnerable. He doesn't feel like Kirito, Beater, and frontliner. He doesn't feel like the only person in SAO to have Dual Wielding. He feels like a fifteen year old boy trapped in something that he shouldn't be wearing.   
  
Then—light. A hand reaches out, grabs his chin in a grip that's far too gentle for it to be kind. "Ah, Asuna," sighs a voice, and the world breaks apart to reveal a birdcage, golden and large. Kazuto breathes out shakily.   
  
He's sitting on a bed. Someone is in front of him, holding his face. Nails dig into his cheeks and he bites back a gasp of pain. Kazuto isn't used to hurt, not anymore. He hasn't felt it in over two tears and this is the first time it happened intentionally to him.

"You aren't Asuna," snarls that voice, and Kazuto can't breathe when a man with blonde hair and green eyes glares at him.   
  
There are chains on his wrists. They connect to the bed. He's in Asuna's place in revealing clothes.   
  
Asuna...could've been here.   
  
Anger flares in his chest but he keeps his mouth shut.   
  
"Don't tell me," the man says. "You're Kirito."   
  
Kazuto hates the way he spits his screen name. He hates a lot of things, at the moment.   
  
"Well, _ hero."  _ And the man smiles nastily, eyes lingering on the curve of Kazuto's shoulders, the graceful line of his legs. "I suppose you'll make for a lovely bride."   
  
And Kazuto—Kazuto finds himself terrified. And not for his life.   
  
"I'm not a girl," he whispers out, and the man's fingers trail down from his chin to his arms, in a bruising grip.   
  
"That doesn't matter." And the man leans forward, grabbing long black hair. "Ah, you smell just like her."   
  
Kazuto leans away. "Who are you? Where am I?"   
  
"You're in Alfheim Online, dear Titania. And I'm Oberon, the Fairy King."   
  
And Kazuto's digital blood turns cold. He's trapped in another game. And Asuna would have been trapped in it if they hadn't grabbed the wrong person.   
  
Asuna. His wife, the love of his life, a thunderstorm and a tsunami trapped in human form, confined to this cage, to these clothes. It makes him so incredibly furious that everything turns red, and he's grateful that he's the one who was caught.   
  
Asuna is a natural disaster trapped behind skin and Kazuto is the one who's human. She would die here, chained with no way out.  And he's fiercely, overwhelmingly glad that he was the one grabbed instead of her. Because Kazuto won’t wilt here. She would.

“Oh?” Kazuto’s lips open in a perfect o. They never used to do that. It must be the game, the way it makes him seem so physically perfect. His arms are perfectly toned, his skin without a blemish. It has to be the game. “I’ve never heard of that game before.”

Oberon’s smile widens. “That’s because it’s my very own game,” he cooes, disgustingly happy.

Kazuto forces a smile. “That’s...interesting.”

And the hand on his arm turns into fingers twirling around in abstract patterns, swirls, and circles. Bile rises in Kazuto’s throat. This cage makes him feel afraid. This man makes him feel uncomfortable.

He was supposed to  _ wake up. _ He was supposed to wake with his sister at his side, with Asuna contacting him as soon as she can. He was supposed to wake up with the Nervegear on his head, not long hair, with emancipated limbs and face from two years of doing nothing but lay in a bed. Not—not have the healthy muscles he does now.

There's nothing on his chest. His legs are exposed. He doesn't have a weapon. He's more vulnerable than he has been in two years and he hates it,  _ hates _ how fear wraps a collar around his throat as Oberon takes a step forward, in between his legs, a sick glint in his eyes as he places a hand on Kazuto's chest. He hates feeling like this but he knows he can't do anything, not without knowing the situation.

"I suppose," Oberon murmurs, his face inches away from Kazuto's, his breath smelling like candy canes and mint, "that this isn't that bad of an arrangement at all. Kirito the Savior at my mercy. Asuna waking up in the real world." His gaze flickers down to Kazuto's lips and Kazuto's hands come up to push at his chest. They look so fragile, so small. It's frightening. Kazuto has always been the one in charge, always been the one with an idea of what to do. There's always been an inkling, an instinct as long as he's been playing games in the virtual world. He wielded heavy, powerful swords with these hands. He doesn't like the fact that he's so powerless.

Oberon leans back, fingers running through black hair, humming a bit at how soft it is. Kazuto swallows painfully past the lump in his throat.

"Of course, I won't force you," he says laughingly, and backs away a few steps, just enough that Kazuto can calm down as he looks down at his lap. His fingernails are the perfect length. Not long enough to cause harm but long enough to dig into his palms when he clenches his fists. There's no calluses on his fingers. He's like a little doll entirely at Oberon's mercy.

"I hope you realize," Kazuto says slowly. "That what you're doing, whatever you're planning—it will be stopped. By me or someone else."

Oberon scoffs as Kazuto looks up. "Nobody knows what I'm doing, my dear Titania." He snaps his fingers and the chains break, leaving cold, heavy metal on Kazuto's wrists as he walks over to the door. He keys in a code but it pixelates before Kazuto's eyes. He can't see it, doesn't even know the first number. "But I'll see you tomorrow. I have Asuna to see."

The door clangs shut, leaving Kazuto alone in a golden cage.

He takes a trembling breath, leaning forward. His hands clasped together between his knees as his shoulders slump. His digital heart stops thundering in his chest, his pulse slows. He raises his head, staring at the bars that hold him. His skin crawls with phantom fingers and he wishes he had his gear, had the comforting weight of his swords against his back. He wishes he had the silver of his ring catching the light.  He rubs against his finger absently as he stands, the skirt swishing around his knees. His feet slap against the floor as he walks over to the bars, placing a hand on the gold. It's cold, something that Kazuto hates. He much prefers the warmth of the sun, of internal heating. This place is warm, with the sun shining down on his back.

Kazuto places a hand in the space between the bars and pushes. A solid wall stops him. He rams his shoulder against it, grunting with the effort, but it doesn't budge. Scowling, he steps back, a hand on his chin. He doesn't know anything of the circumstances, doesn't know who has him trapped. He just knows the name of the game, the avatar of his captor, and the name Oberon. He knows that this is a separate game, and he can infer that more people were taken as well. He can't just be the only one. It's too much effort for just a single person.

He wonders, briefly, a bit morbidly, if all of them are trapped in elaborate bird cages, with clothes that are very inappropriate. But, no. This seems specifically made for one person, for Asuna, and it got him instead.

A heavy weight in his chest, drowning his lungs in guilt, and he can't breathe for a moment, hand resting on the table as he practices the breathing exercises Agil gave him when he found him curled up behind his counter, fingers tangled in his hair and gasping for air.

SAO was a nightmare and a dream come true and Kazuto hadn't known how to deal with it beyond shoving things down. It hadn't helped.

Agil has a cousin who is a therapist. He sometimes asked her for advice and that's how he knew how to help. Of course, he hadn't been able to help with the more complicated issues beyond listening when Kazuto showed up, a bottle dangling from his fingers and mind fuzzy. That only happened when memories got too much, when Kazuto wanted to die but was too cowardly to make himself do it. It didn't happen a lot, not enough to call Kazuto an alcoholic. Just...sometimes. Once every two months, he got drunk and showed up at Agil's door, tears blurring his vision and cheap alcohol on his breath. Agil took him in during those times, wrapped a strong arm around his shoulders and dragged him inside, humming and nodding when Kazuto began spilling his guts, even if it's something he's heard a million times before. Agil's a good friend that way.

But Agil isn't here and there isn't any bad alcohol he can get his hands on. So Kazuto breathes, forcing his legs to stop trembling. And he stands tall, back straight, and he doesn't let his hands shake. He's the Black Swordsman, a front liner, the one who beat Kayaba. He can figure a way out of this.

He swipes down in the air and the log out button isn't there.

Pure, unadulterated  _ panic _ makes everything go blurry and he stumbles back onto the bed, his legs hitting it and making him fall onto the soft bedding. The menu follows him, entirely too innocent, and he dismisses it without a care, curling up on his sides. This is a cage. A cage with no way out that he can see at the moment.

He doesn't cry. But he sends a wish out to Asuna, a silent plea.

_ Please save me. _

He can only hope Asuna hears it.

 

—

 

Two months. Asuna will only be able to go home and walk around after two months. Her muscles are shit, her mother overbearing as always, and there's this restless itching beneath her skin that says she needs to practice, to level up, to find her husband and make sure he's okay.

She doesn't even know where Kirito is. The government agents who came to talk to her refused to tell her when she wouldn't tell them anything about the game, not trusting their judgment. Information is gold and they haven't proven themselves trustworthy.

Still, she wasn't The Lightning Flash for nothing. She has contacts, people with the information she needs, and she was the strongest player in the game besides Kayaba and Kirito. She has respect, influence. People looked up to her and if she asked, they would find out.

But she only needs one person.

Agil.

So she quietly asks an information broker, slips a few yen into their hand when she sees them, murmurs her phone number. They give her a weak nod, body frail, but she sees the glint in their eyes and knows she will get the information she seeks in a few days. And, sure enough, she gets a text from an unknown with a number and a single name. Asuna sends  _ thanks _ and calls the number.

"Yeah?" comes a deep voice, confused and a little bit bewildered, and Asuna smiles.

"It's Asuna. Do you know where Kirito is?"

Agil goes silent. Then—

"Asuna?"

"Yes," she says, stressing the s. "Do you know where Kirito is?"

"Oh, uh. Yeah. He's in the same hospital as me. But, Asuna, there's one thing you should know—"

Asuna pauses in getting a pencil and pen. "What?"

"Kirito...he hasn't woken up."

And the world stops dead around her.

"...What?" she manages. "What did you say?"

"I—I told them everything I knew about SAO and they told me where Kirito was. And—he hasn't woken up. Three hundred haven't."

Asuna leans forward, hair smooth against her skin. "I. But the game was  _ beat,  _ why—"

"I don't know," Agil says, and she can hear the helpless frustration in his voice. "I wish I knew, Asuna."

This shouldn't be happening. It's like she stepped out of a nightmare into another one, only instead of dying it's— _ this.  _ This warm morning, this day where she's finally alone and able to do things. She had complete autonomy before, only answering to Heathcliff, and this sudden lack of freedom  _ rankles _ her, makes her want to grab for her rapier. She hates the way she's watched over like she's glass. She's Lightning Flash Asuna, dammit, she shouldn't be watched over like some—some  _ child  _ who needs looking after.

She takes a breath, makes herself fall into that battle calm she had to develop, and begins to strategize. "Where are you?"

"Mitsui Hospital, room 243. Kirito is in room 356."

Asuna scribbles it down, her handwriting near ineligible. Her mother would be so angry, but Asuna can't bring herself to care as she slips out of bed, gripping onto her IV stand for support. She has to go to Kawagoe City, right now. She needs to see her husband, needs to—needs to—

God, she just wants to make sure he's okay. He's still attached to the Nervegear, still asleep when he shouldn't be, but Asuna has been awake for two weeks now and she hasn't heard any news. She just knows he's still asleep. She just knows he's...

She stumbles, gasping. She hates this body. Hates it,  _ hates _ it. She knows it's her actual body but she's used to being able to lift things that are heavy, used to be able to be faster than anyone else, and this body makes her so incredibly angry that she almost sees red.

Everything's changed, from when she first logged into SAO. She had a daughter. She got  _ married.  _ She's killed people and killed monsters she shouldn't have been able to. She's watched people die, shatter into shards with their scream echoing in her ears. She isn't the meek, obedient daughter she was over two years ago. She's strong now. Stronger than her mother, who has never had the cold steel of a weapon underneath her fingers. Stronger than her father, who never had to fight for his life. Stronger than anyone she knew because she went through all that, went on the front lines and  _ fought _ and survived when very few others did. Asuna is strong. Her husband, Kirito—he's just as strong even though he doesn't think he is. He thinks he's ordinary, if at a high skill level. But she's seen him face down monsters and bosses they had little hope of defeating with a quiet kind of strength, of power and passion, and she thinks, now, that when she saw him like that, she fell in love. Just a bit.

God, she doesn't even know his real name. But then, it never came up. Everyone believed they were trapped and what use were names that haven't been used in over two years? How confusing will it be for everyone?

Kirito.  _ Kirito. _

Her Black Swordsman, her dork of a husband, her gossip of a friend. Kirito is everything and nothing and she never wants him to leave.

He already left. He's still here, she reminds herself, nails digging into the skin of her palm as she opens the door. He's still here, his heart still beats. But his mind is elsewhere. Perhaps he's curled up in a ball, trying to figure out what to do now. He would do that.

She smiles even as nurses swarm her, guide her back to her bed. It's not much, not really, but she knows he's still here. He may have left mentally, but he will be back. She just has to be patient.

_ Kirito, please wake up. _

 

—

 

The cage stops him from flying. His wings are useless, pretty decorations against his back. He grits his teeth, trying to figure out how to use them anyway. There must be some kind of trick—

They twitch. Kazuto blinks, then smiles, a bit happy. He's rarely happy these days. He doesn't have a reason to be. He doesn't know how long it's been since he woke up here, but everything is so very far away. He gets lavish food that tastes heavy on his tongue every day, three times a day. The meals are brought by some weird slime creature that he doesn't pay any attention to.

Kazuto doesn't eat anymore. There's no reason for him to.

The door opens just as he begins to do what he did before, and he turns, eyes widening. Oberon stands here, eyes lingering on Kazuto's chest as he steps inside. Kazuto crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes.

His wings are an opaque white that weigh heavily against his back. They serve no purpose than to let him taste freedom then have it snatched away by the limitations of the game. Kazuto sits on the bed, eyes steady. Oberon comes to sit beside him, immediately playing with his hair, bringing it to his nose and smelling it. Kazuto cringes away as Oberon leans in closer, placing a hand on Kazuto's stomach with his nails scratching it gently. He isn't ticklish there, but that's not Oberon's goal anyway.

He said he would never force Kazuto to do anything he doesn't want to do. Kazuto thinks that's a big fat lie and as such took a knife from the meals he's been given, hid it underneath his pillow if Oberon tries anything. He hasn't, yet, but Kazuto still doesn't trust him.

"Ah, Titania," Oberon sighs, leaning on him until Kazuto has to lean with him. "You're so beautiful."

"I'm not Titania," Kazuto grits out. "I'm Kirito, dammit—"

Oberon pushes him down onto the bed, the chains connecting again in a small flare of light. Kazuto's heart leaps into his throat as he stares up at Oberon, voice silent. Oberon gazes down at him, something not quite right in his eyes, and Kazuto can't breathe underneath the shadow he casts. The chains are unbreakable. There's no escape even if there always  _ is _ one.

"Titania," Oberon says evenly. "There's a reason you're caged, you know?"

"I don't, actually," Kazuto growls back. "You never told me."

Oberon gets closer, so close their breathes intermingle. "It's because you're too good for the rest of the world." And their lips come together, forced and sloppy and panic sparks to life in Kazuto's chest as he pushes and kicks and struggles. Oberon seems to like the struggles and the chains pull taunt, making it impossible for Kazuto to hit him.

His legs push off the covers, a scream building in his throat as Oberon deepens the kiss, and Kazuto—Kazuto...

Kazuto bites down on the tongue starting to invade his mouth, and grabs the knife from underneath his pillow, swiping at Oberon the moment the chains loosen. It gets a hiss of pain from his captor, and Kazuto scrambles back against the bed, curling up against the headboard. His wide eyes follow Oberon's hand as he wipes at his chest, looking down in distaste at the tear in his robe. The knife isn't sharp, barely has any reach, but it's all Kazuto has, and he will wield it as if it was his Elucidator. It's his only defense.

Oberon glances up at him, at the way Kazuto is shaking and the way the knife held in a death grip, sighs, and stands, heading towards the lock. He adjusts his crown, smooths down his robe, and mutters as he types in the code, "Maybe next time you'll be more receptive, Titania."

The door clangs shut and Kazuto rushes to the bars, reaching an arm out for an escape. If he tries to fit his whole body out, it won't let him. But if he sticks an arm out, then it's not so bad.

He wants to escape. He needs to leave before Oberon comes back and—and tries something worse, tries something that makes Kazuto sick to his stomach. He needs to  _ leave. _

So caught up in his panic, he doesn't see a single fairy taking a picture before they fall.

But they see him.

 

—

 

Asuna isn't allowed to go back to school yet, which she supposes is for the best. Her mother, every time she looks at her, goes tight around the mouth with something like grief, something like anger as Asuna completely ignores her orders and does her own thing. Asuna cooks, fails, and cooks again, getting better every time. The servants don't know what to do with her, her father is concerned, her brother is home. Nothing has changed except for her and with each step she takes, which each action she does, she changes them in return.

Asuna sometimes thinks her moniker was well earned. She's a lightning strike, fast and dangerous and frightening, and in Aincrad that was appreciated, needed,  _ and respected.  _ Here, in real life, that's not the case. People are scared at the way her eyes harden, her easy use of weapons. People are scared of her, and it was never that way before. Asuna finds she doesn't mind it, not really. Let people be scared of her. It lets her get away with more, lets her spend more time at Kirito's side.

It's been two months.  She orders a rapier, designs it meticulously on the website and uses her father's credit card for it. When she gets it, she straps it to her side and walks around with it. In an unfamiliar environment, where she doesn't really know anyone, it's a relief to have. She can grip it with one hand feel her unease go away.

She's polishing her rapier when she gets the email from Agil. She blinks, setting it aside, and picks up her phone with fingers that don't have calluses, aren't used to gripping a rapier with a death grip. "What in the world..."

She opens the email, scrolling down to read what Agil wrote.

_ You might need to look at this,  _ she reads, and glances down.

Asuna's eyes widen and she drops her phone on the floor.  Because, there on her screen, is Kirito. His hair is longer, he's no longer wearing black but—

But that's  _ Kirito,  _ her husband, her lover and her everything, the one she died for. It’s Kirito, and that’s all that matters, she thinks, and narrows her eyes at her screen.

His outfit is revealing, his chest bare and arms covered with a sheer fabric, a white skirt gripping his hips and poofing out. His feet are bare, there are wings behind him. His ears are wrong, too, and there's this kind of desperation, of fear on his pixelated face that makes her heart thump and her hand reach for her rapier. Whoever made her husband, made one of the most fearless players in SAO look like that, hand reaching out for something or someone to grab him and pull him out, will pay.

He's unhappy. Powerless, clearly, because if he wasn't he would have already escaped. There must be something keeping him there.

Asuna picks up her phone, smooths her skirt down, and grabs her sandals, texting her chauffeur. She needs to go to Agil's and damn anyone who tries to stop her.

Her mother stands in front of the doorway when she's almost out the door. She's dressed for work, sharp and in a suit, and Asuna slows but doesn't falter. "Mother," Asuna says. "I'm going to Agil's."

Her mother raises an eyebrow. "And not study?"

Asuna bares her teeth in something that resembles a smile. "Yeah. He sent me something and I need to check that out."

Her mother stares at the resolve in her eyes, the way she looks ready to fight, and sighs, standing aside. "Just don't do anything you'll regret. And be here by dinner.”

Asuna smiles. She hasn't lived with regrets for more than two years. When you could die at any moment, you can't have regrets. "I won't."

And she gets into the waiting car, telling them to take her to the train station. Agil's bar is near the hospital—in the general area, at least—and she can visit Kirito once this is done.

"Are you sure?" asks her driver, and Asuna glances over at him. He's new. "I mean, your mother—"

"My mother has no say in what I do," Asuna retorts, and looks out the window, refusing to say more until they arrive at the train station. She gets out of the car, buys her ticket, and gets on the train without a backward glance. Kawagoe City is an hour away, and in the meantime, she looks over the email again. Agil hadn't said anything more than what she read, and she types out a question.

_ Where? _

Agil's response is quick, almost instantaneous.  _ Alfheim Online. _

Asuna's blood runs cold. That's the game RECT Progress is in charge of. That's the game Sugou is in charge of. Sugou, who wants to marry her, who looks at her with hungry eyes. Sugou, who her mother approves of, wants her to marry, who she’s having dinner with this very night.

Asuna’s hand grips her phone tight, the plastic groaning underneath the pressure.

Oberon is Sugou. And he's trapped Kirito in it, in a golden cage while holding something over him to make unable to fight back.

Three hundred players have not woken up, Kirito included. If she's correct, then they're in Alfheim Online as well. But  _ why?  _ Why keep them there? It makes no sense, not unless he has something planned. 

She doesn’t know what he’s planning. But she will find out.

Asuna grits her teeth.  _ I know the person who's keeping him there. _   
  
A beat. _ Who. _

Agil is angry. Good thing is she as well.   
  
_ Sugou Nobuyuki. He's in charge of Alfheim Online. _

_...Shit. Kirito you got yourself into something bad. _

That was about her reaction, too. But no matter. She'll get to Agil's and they'll discuss battle plans. Then she'll go to Kirito's room and maybe have a good cry. Kirito is the only person she feels like she's able to cry around lately. He won't take advantage of her weakness.   
  
(She wakes up with tears in her eyes after nightmares, screams lodged in her throat, and she grabs her rapier, prepared to fight an enemy that will never come. In the game, Kirito was the one who took the sword from her hands, held her close and told her that they're safe, that it's okay. Now, there's no one there. And Asuna doesn't quite know what to do with herself.)   
  
_ I'll see you in about thirty minutes,  _ she sends off, and rests her head against the window. She'll be the one to save Kirito this time. He saved her from Kayaba. She'll save him from Sugou.   
  
Her hand clenched into a fist. She has to.

Sugou is going to get some  _ very _ hot chili flakes in his dinner tonight.   
  


—   
  


Oberon takes away his knife. Doesn't give him any more. It's mildly scary, how his only protection has been taken away.

His items are locked. He checked to see if he still had Yui, and he does but—but he can't click on her. All of his items are either question marks or he's unable to access them. He's utterly defenseless and it  _ rankles _ him. He's the Black Swordsman, he shouldn't be so helpless. He hasn't been helpless since Floor Three. And yet—with a single wave of his hand, Oberon can chain him and make him like that. He can and he does.

Oberon hasn't tried anything since that disastrous kiss, content to play with Kazuto's hair and press feather light kisses to his cheek. It's a relief. Kazuto doesn't know if he could take that again. Doesn't know if he could handle another one.

There are chains connecting him to the bed right now. He isn't laying against it, not like he did that day, but—

But he can't move more than a few feet away from the bed. And Oberon is sitting in the chair, watching him fondly, his hand holding his cheek. Kazuto doesn't look at him, sitting down on the bed and looking at his feet.

"So," he begins. "Why me? What are you planning?"

Oberon hums. "Research. On the human brain. And you and three hundred other players are my unwitting test subjects."

Kazuto's heart stops. "...What?"

Oberon stands, wandering over. "I'm experimenting to see if I can change memories, emotions." He sits down on the bed, running his fingers through black hair. "And you, my dear Titania, are merely one of many. Though you do get more...luxuries than the others."

Horror is a thick thing in Kazuto's throat and he can't breathe through it. Terror is something he's friends with, has known for the past two years. He can't breathe, his mind blank as he stares at the ground. His shoulders jerk, his fingers curl into the skirt, and he can't think.

Oberon gives his jaw a kiss, trails his fingers across Kazuto's shoulder. "You're the special one."

"This...This is illegal," Kazuto manages. "So insanely illegal, it's not even funny. I hope you realize that you're—you're not going to get away with doing that."

Oberon laughs. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard to Kazuto. "Oh, my dear, nobody but a select few know what I'm doing. So just sit down and relax." He leans in again and Kazuto stands, goosebumps rising on his skin.

"I'm afraid that won't be happening." The chains rattle as he crosses his arms, the manacles on his wrists cold despite having been on him for however long he's been here. He thinks it's been a month. Maybe two. He measured the days by the meals he's given, not by the sky, but he's long since lost count.   
  
"Titania," Oberon says, eyes full of wonder as he looks at Kazuto, at the immovable stance. He smiles, slow and steady, and gets to his feet as well. He towers over Kazuto, his hair turning golden in the sunlight, and anyone else would feel awe at the sight of it, at the crown on Oberon's head, but all Kazuto feels is fear.

He reaches out, takes Kazuto's cheek in hand. "Titania, you are so beautiful when you get stern."   
  
Kazuto feels bile rise in his throat. "Get used to it," he says hoarsely. "And my name is Kirito."   
  
"Titania," Oberon repeats.   
  
_ “Kirito."  _ Kazuto pushes Oberon's hand away. "And—I'm not going to stay here."   
  
His wings twitch. He could fly, if he so wished. He's hovered in this cage, sat near the top. His wings don't ache, don't stop sparkling. He assumes it's because he's up here.   
  
Oberon sighs, pulls him back to the bed. Kazuto only goes with him because there would be pain if he didn't.   
  
He can take the pain. But he would rather not have it if he couldn't.   
  
"Titania," Oberon says, sounding irritated. "You are staying here." His fingers trail up Kazuto's chest as his other hand cups the back of his head. Kazuto closes his eyes.   
  
"No."   
  
And Oberon's hands fall away. "You know," he says. "This  _ is _ the digital world. It's not like it's real."   
  
Kazuto knows that. He knows that, knows it like he knows his body is wasting away in a coma in some hospital, his sister crying over him, his mother holding back her tears as they wonder why he hadn’t woken up yet, but he also knows that if he gets touched without his consent, even if it's not his real body, he will react as though it happened IRL. It seems Oberon doesn't know that.   
  
"I said no," he says, and turns his back on his captor. Oberon heaves a breath, pressing his lips to Kazuto's pulse point before slipping off the bed. Kazuto watches as he keys in the code through the mirror. The game doesn’t account for reflections.  _ Oberon  _ doesn’t account for it, and it gives him the advantage, if only a small one. The code plays out right before Kazuto’s eyes.

4-6-5-4-7   
  
His lips lift into a feral grin as he watches Oberon’s figure fade into the distance, as he watches him take flight. Then, he slips off the bed. There isn’t anything he can use to break the chains, but when Oberon returns, he will unlock the chains. He always does. Kazuto spends days in these manacles, then one day Oberon comes with a golden key that glints in the cold sunlight and unlocks him. Kazuto thinks he just likes to see him unable to move, to do anything. Kazuto was once able to roam wherever he wanted, and now he’s trapped in a cage.

Kazuto thinks Oberon finds it funny.

“Four,” he says to himself. “Four, six, five, four, seven.”

He cannot afford to forget it. Otherwise, he can kiss his freedom goodbye.

Kazuto grinds his teeth together, relishing the ache it brings, and lays down on the bed. He stares at the bars that come to a point above him, closes his eyes, and waits. It’s all he can do, until this metal is eased from his skin.

Still, once it’s gone, he’s leaving. And nothing was going to stop him.

 

—

 

Asuna stares at her Nervegear. The small helmet hardly looks like the piece of destruction she knows it to be, a murder weapon employed by Kayaba and PKrs, but she knows it is. Waves could fry her brain, could have, would have. Almost did, if Kirito hadn’t killed Kayaba. She’d been so sure she was dying, and her only thought had been that if she had died so Kirito could live, could live on for her daughter and her.

SAO had become her entire world. She knew she was really in a hospital, but SAO was there and present, and it had given her a child and taken her away just as quickly. Her entire world was held in a disk, made of ones and zeroes, and she’d known that just as she’d known the moment she had thrown herself in front of her husband that she would die.

She didn’t die, but it was a damned close thing.

Asuna sits on her bed, Nervegear held in her hands, cradling it as though it was made of glass. It’s not. It’s sturdy and durable and more than two years old, but Asuna brushes a feather-light touch over the words on it anyway, bringing it to her forehead. She hates it. Hates what it represents to her family, hates it more than anything because its siblings caused countless deaths. But she also loves it, because it allowed her to become strong, to grow past the limits her mother had set for her. Because it allowed her to meet Kirito, to meet Yui, meet so many wonderful people, and she can’t thank it enough.

It’s the product of Kayaba, of Heathcliff, her commander, the one who nearly killed her, and she hates it all the more for it.

“I need your help one more time,” she whispers, and it becomes as heavy as Kirito’s swords in her hands. “Please.”

Asuna doesn’t beg. She is the second in command to the Knights of the Blood Oath, and she will bow her head to no one but her commander. The moment Kayaba revealed himself, he lost that privilege. Thus, she is the commander, and she will never incline her head for anyone but herself. She doesn’t plead, nor does she beg. It’s simply a request, she tells herself, and lays down on her bed, placing the Nervegear on her head. It’s sturdy, comfortable, and the pads fit perfectly to her skin.

She takes a breath, Kirito’s smile, so small and true in her mind’s eye, and releases it.

This is for Kirito. For his family, too, and the three hundred other people trapped in Alfheim Online. She is one of the strongest players in the death game, and she is the only one capable of rescuing them.

Asuna closes her eyes, clears her throat, and says the words that have lingered on her tongue for more than two years.

“Link start.”

The word is awash in color against white, circles appearing to the sides of her vision. Ones she hasn’t seen in over a year. She knows they’re confirming touch, taste, sight, and hearing. The circles turn green, dart away, and the language is confirmed as the language she set it as in SAO. Then everything goes black and the words  _ Welcome to Alfheim Online!  _ show up in white, stark against the black.

Asuna opens her eyes to a room filled with screens, each glowing a soft blue. She looks around warily, then down at herself. Standard clothing, really, and looks up just in time to see a keyboard appear in front of her, asking for her name as the voice rings out overhead, telling her to input her character’s name and gender.

She hesitates over it. Kirito always said she was silly for using her real name, but back then she was inexperienced and naive. Not anymore. But, she has to think, she has always been straightforward.

She types in Asuna, selects female, and the voice rings out again just as nine figures show up, alternating so she could see each one. “The next step is race selection. Please choose one of the nine races.

Asuna doesn’t give a damn about what race she is. What she cares about is getting to Kirito, the fastest she could. She’d researched the races beforehand, and knew that the Undines were the ones closest to the World Tree, so she chose Undine. The fact that they specialized in healing magic wasn’t a bad thing, either. Healing magic could have saved so many lives back in SAO, and Asuna, no matter the fact that she knew that people couldn’t die if they were killed here, would never pass it up. She clicks Undine.

“Undine, correct?” When Asuna doesn’t say no, the voice continues. “Your character’s appearance will be randomly generated. Is that all right?”

Asuna doesn’t care what she looks like, so she doesn’t say anything, instead clicking the bottom button again. The control disappears, and the voice says, “You will not be transferred to the Undine’s hometown. We wish you the best of luck.”

Light surrounds her, so similar to that fateful day in the Town of Beginnings, and she closes her eyes as the floor drops out from under her, leaving her falling through the air as her avatar makes itself.

She opens her eyes to see a castle on an island, and she smiles, just slightly. It’s wonderful, to be falling without fear of death. Asuna laughs, turning around in the air so her back it towards the ground, looking up at the stars as the wind whistles past her ears. It’s nice, to feel that cold breeze against her, to feel as weightless as she did when she was in the air, rapier striking fast and devastating hits at her enemies.

Then—thunder. Lightning. Asuna closes her eyes on reflex, curling in on herself until it stops, and when it does, she’s falling through the air into a forest. Her eyes widen, hair flying around her, and right before impact she manages to grab a branch, hanging from a tree as the moonlight shines on the forest floor. Asuna eyes the distance from the ground, decides it’s not far enough it’ll really harm her HP, and drops, rolling with it.

The forest really is beautiful, she decides, and looks around. It’s not bad, not really, but it’s not as beautiful as the forests that surrounded her home on the 22nd floor. Her eyes widen as the memory of Aincrad, and opens her menu, finger hovering over the log out button in relief. She isn’t trapped again, isn’t forced to stay in a virtual world while her real body wastes away, only kept alive by medical science.

Then she frowns, because if she used her account on her Nervegear, her items should still be here, right?

She clicks on her items, sighing heavily when it seems that everything has disappeared. Not surprising, considering Aincrad was a completely different game, but if she’s right, then—

Yui. Her finger hovers above the item holding her daughter, and clicks on it. Even if Yui doesn’t come back, then she’ll at least have the only thing remaining of her, a string of code saying she is but a crystal tear.

The crystal floats in her hands for a moment, before going up into the air, surrounded by light. An elated smile breaks across Asuna’s face as she watches it take the shape of a little girl in a white dress, and she catches her daughter as she comes down to the forest floor, nearly collapsing into her mother’s arms.

Oh, her daughter is back. She’s back, she’s  _ back,  _ safe in her arms where nothing could ever hurt her again. Not Kayaba, not a monster, not even the system. Her daughter is safe and sound, and Asuna falls to her knees, clutching her daughter close as she sobs.

It’s been months since she cried like this. It’s the second time she’s sobbed like this, and both times it’s been because of Yui. Her perfect daughter, the little girl who adores spicy food just like her father, and Asuna buries her face in her daughter’s hair, rocking back and forth, thanking everything she can think of for allowing her this.

Her daughter is  _ alive.  _ It’s a miracle, a gift from above.

Two hands come up to grip at the cheap shirt, and Yui’s voice rings true and innocent in her ear. “...Mama?”

Asuna pulls back, keeping her hands on her daughter’s shoulders, and smiles through her tears. “It’s me, she promises. “It’s Mama, Yui, and I’m never letting you go again.”

It’s a vow, an oath. A promise made from a mother to daughter and nothing will ever break it.

Yui’s smile is like seeing the sun come up after a long and miserable night. “Okay,” she says, and her voice is soft and high pitched, everything Asuna remembered it was. “I’m happy I’m back with you.”

“Yui, I’m ecstatic,” Asuna laughs, and swings her daughter into her arms, twirling around on her heel, Yui’s dark hair mixing with bright blue. “You’re alive, Yui, and that’s—“

“It’s Papa’s doing,” Yui interrupts, matter-of-fact the same way Asuna is, and Asuna smiles, helplessly in love with the little girl in her arms.

“That’s right,” Asuna agrees, kissing Yui’s cheek. Yui giggles and squirms away, eyes bright as she lands on her feet, the sound soft against the grass.

“Mama, where is Papa?” Yui asks, looking around, and when she doesn’t find him, her expression shades towards distress. Asuna hurriedly picks her daughter up again, humming lightly under her breath as she walks away from the clearing. “Mama?”

“Papa…” Asuna doesn’t know how to say the truth to Yui. Her father was abducted by a man with connections to her? Her future betrothed if her mother had anything to say about it?

“Papa is with someone bad. We need to save him,” is what she decides on, and Yui nods, determination and stubbornness setting her gaze.

“So like how we went to save that man from the dungeon?” Yui asks, eyes roaming the trees—searching for threats, Asuna knows, and ruffles her daughter’s hair as she sets her down on the ground.

“Yes, exactly like that,” she says, and guides Yui over to a small area with a large oak. “Papa needs to be rescued because he’s in a bad situation.”

“Okay,” Yui says with a nod, and closes her eyes for a moment. “Mama, your SAO avatar fused with this one.”

Asuna nods. “That does explain something things,” she hums, thinking of her levels, and looks to the sky just in time to see a figure dart down. Asuna grabs her daughter and hides behind the trees, hand grasping the handle of the rapier hanging from her waist as the too-familiar scene plays out in front of her.

A single player, exhausted, HP depleted, hands shaking as she holds the sword. Three other players in front of her, saying  _ give me your items. _

Asuna grinds her teeth together. That’s precisely what PKrs say before killing, and she’s lost more than one acquaintance to that trick. Lost friends to PKrs.

“I’m taking one of you bastards down with me!” declares the girl, and steadies her blade. Asuna smiles. This one has spirit. A stare off commences, the PKrs waiting to see if she’ll make the first move, and her wondering if they’ll start the fight.

Asuna clenches her hands into fists, stepping out from her hiding place. “Yui, stay here,” she says softly, laying a hand on her daughter’s hair before walking into the little clearing.

“Hey!” she shouts, and all four of them look over at her. Asuna almost smiles—she still has that commanding voice that made everyone heed her during boss raids.

“A newbie?” one of the PKrs says softly, wings fluttering as he turns, his boots rough against the leaves.  Asuna’s answering smile is all teeth as she draws her rapier, settling into the stance she’d developed in SAO.

“Get out of here,” hisses the girl, katana lowering in her confusion. Asuna only takes another step forward, activating her speed with a thought. Her attacks are fast and ruthless, striking the vulnerable parts of the armor, and then she drops to the ground, swiping his feet out from under him, rapier at the juncture of his throat.

She knows barely five seconds have passed since she started her attack, but she wasn’t one of the top players in SAO for nothing; if you can’t attack fast and get out of the way, you’re doomed to die.

And Asuna didn’t want to die.

“So,” she says softly, tilting his head up, “mind telling me why you’re gaining up on one person? It’s not chivalrous at all. Three against one?” She tsks. “I’d call that an unfair fight.”

“You’re just a newbie,” scoffs the player underneath her, and Asuna presses the tip of her rapier harder into his throat.

“Wanna bet,” she hisses, and everything is quiet, still. Nobody knows what to do except for her, because the ball is in her court now, and what she wants to do is get her daughter and this ambushed player out of the line of fire. 

“Yui,” she says softly, and her daughter steps out from behind the tree. The players gape at her, not expecting to see an actual child, but Yui only smiles, soft and serene as she takes the player’s hand and leads her away.

“This way,” she says. “Mama isn’t happy with these guys.”

Asuna takes a step back, rapier at the ready. “Good girl, Yui,” she praises, and she can feel the light from her daughter’s smile on her back. “Mama will be right there, okay?”

“Okay!”

“Hey, wait, we can’t just leave her—“

“I can take care of myself,” Asuna interrupts, and the player’s words die in her throat. “Just go.” She pulls her rapier back, and attacks. They fall beneath her blade as easy as the boars on the first floor of Aincrad, and she’s almost disappointed at their strength. She’s had harder fights, tougher fights; even spars were more difficult than that.

She sighs, sheathing her rapier as she stares at them. Their HP is dangerously low, low enough that they’ll need a healing crystal if they want to make it back to their land without being killed if they get hit by a single attack, but that isn’t her problem. It’s theirs, and though she would give them a healing crystal, her items are broken. So, she looks them over, watching their HPs carefully. Even though she knows they’re not going to die in the real world, it’s ingrained in her to not let anyone die on her watch. So she aims a glare at them, cutting and exactly what got up-start frontliners to shut up and listen to her.

“Shut up. And go away. I don’t want to kill you.”

And she won’t. After more than two years spent in Aincrad, the idea of killing another player is repulsive. She’s killed, sure, but only in dire circumstances, only when she absolutely had to. Only when she was in explicit danger of dying.

She sighs, turning on her heel. “I’m going to leave,” she says, “and you better not follow me.”

She hears the light sound of the wings, and a swish of air makes her long hair rustle. She tucks it behind her ear and makes her way over to the player and her daughter, brushing her dark hair away from her forehead before turning to the player, casting a critical eye on the player.

Long blonde hair held in a high ponytail, green clothes, a katana held in a sheath at her side. Green eyes stare at Asuna in shock, mouth slightly open, and Asuna takes a book from her husband’s book, closing it with one finger. The girl blushes, taking a step back, and Asuna laughs. “Relax,” she says through her giggles. “I’m not gonna do anything.” She holds out a hand. “I’m Asuna.”

The girl shakes herself, holding herself with an air, not unlike a fighter who knows they’re dangerous. “I’m Leafa,” she replies, taking Asuna’s hold and shaking it firmly. “And who’s this?”

“I’m Yui!” Yui says cheerfully, and Leafa smiles. “Nice to meet you!”

“It’s nice to meet you as well.” Leafa pats Yui’s head, then looks as Asuna curiously. “Hey, aren’t you an Undine? What are you doing all the way out here?”

Asuna tilts her head. “Not sure myself. A bug, maybe?” She shrugs her shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. I need to get to the World Tree as soon as possible.”

Leafa scoffs. “Yeah, join everyone else. It’s basically impossible, and a newbie like you can’t even fly.”

“No, there’s someone there—“ Asuna sighs. “It doesn’t matter, just point me in the direction of the World Tree and I’ll go there myself.”

“We’re going to meet my papa,” Yui says with a wide smile, and Leafa blinks.

“Oh,” she says, laughing. “So you and your husband chose different races and agreed to meet at the World Tree?”

Asuna smiles thinly. “You could say that.”

It’s more that Kirito is being held captive by a madman, but those aren’t details she’s willing to give out to complete strangers.

“So which way is the World Tree?” Asuna asks, tucking her daughter against her side and resting her hand on her hip. “I can walk.”

Leafa crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow. “That will take days. I know a shortcut, and I owe you anyway for saving me back there. So why don’t we go back to my race’s territory and then we can go tomorrow?”

Asuna can’t wait that long. She’s delaying the engagement as much as she can, through defiance and sheer stubbornness, but at the end of the day, she’s still a minor. Her mother can make her engaged to Sugou at any time. The only reason she hasn’t because Asuna has been so vocal about not marrying him.

She has to rescue Kirito, not only for his sake, but for her's as well. It’s time-sensitive.

But...a day isn’t bad. She nods, nails digging into her palms. “Okay. Mind teaching me how to fly?”

Leafa smiles. “Thought you’d never ask.”

 

—

 

Kazuto watches as Oberon unlocks the chains, his touch light against his skin. Reverent, Kazuto thinks, and turns his head away in disgust.

“Titania, you’re so beautiful,” Oberon croons, and Kazuto forces down the bile.

“Kirito,” he corrects without missing a beat, and stands, the skirt swaying around his hips as he does. Walking over to the bed, he takes a seat, rubbing at his wrists to get the feeling of metal. The moon shines overhead, cold and all-seeing, and Kazuto doesn’t look up at it. He’s looked at it far too many times.

Windchimes blow in his ears, so peaceful and soothing that it makes Kazuto furious. He hates how everything is so peaceful, how everything is so quiet. He hates it, hates how it’s so...so…

He sighs. He saw the key in Oberon’s hand but he won’t be released until his captor leaves. He just—wants to leave. He wants to log out, but he can’t log out, not until he gets a master card or Oberon allows it. And, considering how much Kazuto knows about what he’s doing, that isn’t likely to happen. So, he must escape this cage and find someone he can trust, who  _ can _ log out, and who can tell the police. He just…needs to find out who Oberon is. Which is difficult, because he doesn’t even know what company manages the game he’s trapped in. He doesn’t know anything, and it’s. Difficult.

Kazuto has always known things he probably shouldn’t have. His adoption, controls in SAO,  _ Kayaba’s identity… _

He’s always known things. Things that were secret. So this knowledge, this secret, this mystery being withheld from him makes it annoying. He knows things that he shouldn’t, but the piece of knowledge that he needs the most is not within his grasp.

“Titania,” Oberon croons, and Kazuto cringes, “what’s wrong?”

_ What’s wrong is that I don’t want to be here, _   Kazuto wants to scream.  _ What’s wrong is that I’m being held prisoner for saving people. What’s wrong is that you planned to do this to Asuna. _

He can’t say any of that, though. So he keeps his mouth shut, keeps his eyes to the ground. His skin, forever pale by the amount of time he spends inside, is stark against the soft gray of the stone. His nails aren’t painted, nor are they long. It’s yet another manipulation of his body by Oberon. He hates how he’s able to just change things like this

If Oberon wished, he could change Kazuto’s gender. He hasn’t, yet, but Kazuto suspects he would do it just to see what would happen, just how Kazuto would react.

Oberon sits beside him, taking some hair into his grasp and bringing it to his nose, taking a deep breath. Kazuto leans away, his hair slipping out of Oberon’s hand. His captor sighs, pressing a kiss to Kazuto’s shoulder. His teeth scrape against the skin, trying to leave a mark, but this is the digital world. It won’t do anything more than make him satisfied. Still, Kazuto pushes him away, and Oberon lets himself go with it, a smug smile on his face as he watches the game make the mark disappear

“I should find a way to make it stay,” he muses aloud, and Kazuto freezes. That _ — _ that would be a nightmare. That’s not something he wants. He doesn’t want to be marked anymore than he already is. His hair is long, his body changed to fit Oberon’s idea of beauty. He’s dressed in clothes that reveal far more than he’s comfortable with, and if Oberon manages to find a way to make the marks  _ stay— _

Kazuto doesn’t know what he’ll do, but he knows it wouldn’t be pretty.

Oberon brushes a hand over his arm, feather light and entirely too intrusive for such a simple action. "Titania," he says, soft and kind, and Kazuto shivers, biting his lip. "Would you let me kiss you?"

"Would you unlock these chains," Kazuto asks sarcastically, but Oberon smiles, snapping his fingers. The chains fall to the floor, Kazuto gaping at them, then swings his head up to look at Oberon. "What—"

Oberon pushes him down onto the bed, grip tight on Kazuto's wrists, and presses his lips to Kazuto's. Kazuto keeps his lips sealed shut, squeezes his eyes shut as he squirms. Oberon sighs, his breath hot against Kazuto's face, and sits up, a disappointed frown on his face.

"You know," he says conversationally, as though this wasn't wrong and illegal, "this would be much easier if you didn't resist."

"And I'm a minor," Kazuto manages back. "And I don't want to kiss you."

Oberon rolls his eyes. "You're being so difficult. There's no reason for you to resist." He trails a finger across Kazuto's cheek. "After all, it's not like you can escape. Asuna is going to marry me sometime next month and my research is eighty percent complete. And after everything you've found out...I'm not ever letting you go." He presses his lips to Kazuto’s pulse point, right where he’s learned to, because Kazuto gasps, twists away, and Oberon smiles, his teeth like knives in the sunlight.

“So I’m stuck in this game with my body wasting away,” Kazuto says, gritting his teeth. “My family can’t afford to pay the hospital bills, and eventually my body will give out. You  _ have _ to let me go sometime.”

“Just because,” Oberon says, and it’s slow and entirely too wondering against the skin of his neck, “I can’t keep you here forever doesn’t mean that I can’t keep you.”

And Kazuto’s breath catches in his throat. There’s no way he could do that, no way that he could get away with it, but—he’s somehow managed to keep everyone here for two months without anyone finding out. He could, he could, and Kazuto’s afraid he will.

His fingers curl around Oberon’s shoulders. He could be trapped. He’ll always be trapped, it seems, because once he wakes up—his body will be too frail to do anything. He’ll be trapped, like a bug in a jar, like a flower pressed behind glass. He’ll be trapped.

His heart beats wildly at the thought. Oberon’s fingers grip his wrists tight, a hand trailing down his chest, a thumb rubbing at his hip. Kazuto’s strength stat is still there, but it seems useless in the face of this realization, of this stark terror. He could shove Oberon off, easy. Could shove him off and push him into the bars of this golden cage, of this prison. He could, he could. But he won’t.

He only stares at the sky, at the blinding sun, until Oberon sighs in disappointment at his unresponsiveness and sits up, tugging Kazuto up with him. Kazuto lets him, eyes wide. Oberon brushes a hand over his hair, presses a chaste kiss against his lips, and stands. Kazuto wraps his arms around his torso, lowering his head until his hair covers his face, and doesn’t look as Oberon leaves without a word, the bars closing behind him with a small  _ chink  _ of metal against stone.

Kazuto doesn’t move until he hears the footsteps stop echoing in the quiet. He doesn’t move until he stops trembling. He doesn’t do anything until the light glinting off of the metal catches his eye and the absent weight of the manacles around his wrists make him lurch to his feet. His wings twitch on his back as he rushes to the keypad, his bare feet slapping the ground deafening. His breathing comes out harsh, his fingers shake, but he puts in the code and the door opens before him, a savior in the form of programmed gold. The bars rise and Kazuto rushes out the moment he's able, ducking underneath the metal. The wood underneath is twisted, rough, but he mays it no mind. The sun is out, shining down upon him with artificial warmth, but Kazuto loves it all the same. The trunk of the tree is right there, the town under the tree below, and Kazuto glances down, looking at it with curious eyes. He’s seen it before, when he was bored and willing to risk death to look. It’s a sprawling city, with all the different races coming together, and at night it’s a beautiful place. But that isn’t what he escaped for. He needs to find the owner’s tablet and get the hell out of there. But what can he do?

He sighs, leaning against the tree. He’s—he’s tired. The sound of wind chimes is enough to make him sick, nowadays. He hates gold. Hates the weight of anything around his wrists even more. He hates many things, now, included fucking  _ slime. _

Those slime monsters that bring him food, the ones that say things like experiments, like the _ boss says _ . He hates them. They’re willingly participating in something illegal, in trapping three hundred people in a game. They're doing it and they're  _ okay  _ with it, okay with doing what their boss wanted them to do. Kazuto doesn't understand them, and he doesn't think he ever will.

He licks his lips, wrapping his arms around his stomach. He needs to look at his options.

He can't just wander. He'll surely be caught then, no questions asked, so he needs to find a place where he can rest. Somewhere he can regroup. Somewhere...

Kazuto thumps his head against the white bark. He doesn't know what he's doing. In SAO, the only uncharted territory were the dungeons; the map automatically updated when they reached a new floor. But he doesn't even have a map of the tree.

He thumps his head again, sinking to the branch under his feet. He's tired. He just wants to go home to his family, just wants to wake up with Asuna at his side and his family watching in teary-eyed happiness. He wants to go  _ home. _

His skirt is smooth against his skin. He thinks it's silk. Silk skirts and silk ribbons, silk sheets and soft blankets against a soft bed. That's all his life has consisted of for at least two months now. That, and Oberon. Oberon, with his golden hair. Oberon, with his green robes. Oberon, with his greedy eyes and wandering hands that make Kazuto wants to throw up. Oberon, who says he's to marry Asuna, and that he's going to keep Kazuto with him.

Kazuto shivers. He knows that Oberon has a screw missing, that something is not quite right. But he also knows he hides it very well, that he has a high position, that people  _ trust _ him explicitly. Not many people would believe Kazuto, if he told him just what Oberon is doing. But—the genuine way he'd said he'd keep Kazuto, that he would never let him go—

That's scary. That's frightening. And after two years in SAO, not many things make Kazuto scared.

He rolls his neck, stretching. This body doesn't need it, but even after two years spent in the digital world, some habits never fade. He always stretches when he's confused, when he's stressed. Something about relieving the built-up stress in the muscles. Whatever the reason, Sugu started it, and it passed to him by osmosis, and he's never really given it up, even after his sister did, distracted by kendo and schoolwork where he dived into the digital world, learning all he could and more than he should have.

Kazuto knows code like he should know his family. He isn't sure what that means, that he knows a string of numbers and letters better than his own family.

Still, he thinks, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them, just watching the clouds float by, it doesn't mean that he doesn't have time to fix that. Just as soon as he escapes, or he's saved.

Soft music curls past him with the breeze that rustles his hair, and Kazuto tugs on it. He hates his hair, too. He doesn't like long hair, not really, and he doesn't understand how Asuna could deal with it. It weighs his head down and makes it harder to fight. But, he supposes, that just demonstrates how strong Asuna is. She did it when she could have had it cut off. It simply shows how much stronger she is than him.

He sighs. He doesn't know what he's doing. He just knew that he was alone and that he knew the code, that he could leave. He left without a plan, without any idea of what he would do when he did leave. God, he's an idiot.

He'd already had his last meal for the day. He didn't eat it. There's no one going back to the cage, not until the morning when the slime monster will come, carrying his breakfast. So he could—

Voices. Loud ones, nasal ones, and Kazuto freezes against the tree, eyes wide. He could get caught, could get forced back into that damn cage, could—

He takes a breath and  _ listens. _

"—dunno why the boss insists on keeping his mental state healthy." A huff. "It's not like he's any different than any of the other test subjects."

"That's not true," replies another, this time a female. "You know how he visits this one every day."

"Yeah, and it's fucking  _ creepy." _

"I won't disagree with you there," the woman laughs, and they turn, almost in Kazuto's line of sight. He panics, backing away until his feet his nothing, and then he falls, just as Kazuto sees purple slime monsters making their way towards where he was hidden.

He falls, the wind whistling past his ears, and he can't breathe past the big, panicking thing in his chest. He can't do anything other than twist until he's falling upright, can't do anything other than activate his wings, but at that point, he's already more than halfway down the tree, and there's no way he can go back up there. So he hovers, eyes wide and air only just coming back into his lungs, and people look up and stare, at this person in the skirt with long black hair.

He takes a deep breath, curling his fingers in, nails digging into his palms. He needs to leave this area, he knows that. He needs to leave, go farther and farther, as far the map will allow him. He needs to leave.

He finds himself coming down to the ground, his feet touching the stone without a sound. People stare at him, at his clothing, and he ignores them, tilting his head up towards the sun. There's no glare of light against gold, no warm wind. No birds coming to stand on his table, no soft bed beneath him. It's nice. It's a change.

"Excuse me," asks a player, and Kazuto opens his eyes, turning to look at them. It's a girl with cat ears and tail, her skin dark. "Did—did you just fall from the top of the World Tree?"

Kazuto frowns. "And if I did?"

The girl grabs his arm, cat eyes glinting. "What race were you before? What race won?" The people around them chatter in agreement, leaning in close, and Kazuto shrugs her grip off.

"I'm just me. I never changed races."

"So you just logged in and became an Alf?" the girl shouts, and Kazuto cringes, glancing up at the branches of the tree. He knows they won't be able to hear the people down here—Kazuto never could, no matter how much he strained his ears—but it doesn't make the sudden jolt of fear any less powerful.

"I'm not anyone of importance," he hisses, and activates his speed. He can just see the way their faces change to surprise before he's out into the city, his wings carrying him farther and farther, leaving that tree behind. When he finally stops, he's in the area where it's dark and gritty and he sighs, running a hand through his hair, gripping it at the base of his neck. He should have a map, now he's in the official game.

Bringing up a finger, he swipes it through the air, and, sure enough, there's a map. It seems that he's not denied the basic privileges as a player. Eyes roaming as he zooms out, he sees that the farthest out he can get is Salamander. It's the farthest away, and it's exactly what he needs.

Kazuto closes the map, leaping into the air and starting to fly. Salamander territory is far away; he needs to get there before the day is over, before someone comes back to his cage and finds him gone.

At the thought, he urges his wings to go faster.

The farther away, the better.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE leave comments because they would make my day and i'm actually kinda proud of it? so yeah. comments give me lifeee
> 
> EDIT: okay guys? Can you _stop_ commenting update and _nothing else._ Just leave a kudos if that's all you have to say. It really irritates me when I get an email about a comment for this fic and i only see that; not only that it makes me _tired._ I spent about half a year on the first chapter. I love SAO and i want to write for it, but I am also in school. I have a job. I have to take care of my siblings when it's needed. I can't write 12k in a short amount of time. And I know it's been close to a year, but I can't, okay? The more you comment update the more I push back on writing this fic. So just. Don't. Please. PSA from me.


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